


I'd Bend The Knee But...

by Floridaxgirl



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction, Game of Thrones fanfic, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Jonerys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 14:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floridaxgirl/pseuds/Floridaxgirl
Summary: Jon Snow x Daenerys Targaryen fanfiction. Took the dialogue from Season 7 Episode 6 of Game of Thrones and expanded a bit.





	I'd Bend The Knee But...

_“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_ Jon’s brown eyes bore into mine with such intesity that I find myself looking down, averting my own as if I could avoid the conversation that was to come.

When the horn had blown, signaling that a rider was approaching from North of The Wall, I’d nearly collapsed on the spot with relief.   _Jon. He’s okay. He’s okay._ Ser Jorah’s presence was the only thing that kept me from descending into the pool of grief that was resting just under the surface of my body. I’d worn it like a second skin since I’d witnessed Viserion and Jon’s presumed deaths at the expense of the Night King. 

Viserion. My sweet, sweet Viserion. His name clangs through me like an arrow piercing my heart and for just a moment the grief threatens to overcome me.

Jon takes the opportunity of my silence to slip his hand through mine from where it rested on the bed. As if he'd known where my thoughts had gone.  _“I wish I could take it back. I wish we’d never gone.”_   The sincerity in his voice is enough to make my eyes met his again. His features had softened visibly. The rough Stark edge to him had melted, leaving just Jon in its wake. My view of him was blurry as I fought to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay. He had a way of stripping me vulnerable with those damned brown eyes that left me struggling to reign in my emotions even hours after our conversations.

“I don’t.” The words feel like a betrayal but ring true as I voice them. “If we hadn’t gone I wouldn’t have seen. You have to see it to know. Now I know.”

I swallow against the thickness in my throat. At the expense of verifying the threat to the North I’d had to sacrifice one of my children. The words of Mirr Maz Duur ring through the back of my mind, pushing past the grief to voice themselves directly into my line of thought.

_"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.”_

They meant next to nothing to me now. Drogo would not come back to life nor would I bear a living child despite whatever prophecies and grand visions I was fed. I was done with false hope. I had accepted that I would rule Westeros as a barren Queen, so be it, but to lose Viserion, one of my _children,_ was a pain I hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of dealing with.

“The dragons are my children, they’re the only children I’ll ever have.” I hear myself saying aloud to Jon. “Do you understand?”

He nods, but he doesn't understand. Not truly. Perhaps he believes it is my own stubbornness that will prevent me from having children. After all, who is worthy of bearing the children of Daenerys Targaryen? I swallow against the sudden thickness in my throat and reroute my thoughts to a more logical, less destructive route.

 “We are going to destroy the Night King and his army. We will do it together, you have my word.” My voice is soft, measured, even. The elusive threat of the Night King had not been a concern of mine. Not until Jon Snow decided to head North to capture one of his creatures and bring it South as proof. The threat had not seemed real. But now...

Now it was personal. Despite the counsel that yes, it would be a _wise_  decision to deal with the Night King before worrying about the usurper that now sat on  _my_ throne, my mind had still not been wholly convinced. It wasn't about my wishes anymore. I would not deny my two existing children the right to avenge their brothers death. If it just so happened to fall into Jon Snow's agenda as well then so be it.

_“Thank you, Dany.”_ The words come out strained, yet soft. He’s relieved. Relieved that I had come to the sane decision to stand with him against the threat to our shared home yet he still feels guilty and rightfully so. Hearing the shortened version of my name sends a stream of fire straight into my gut.

“Dany.” I breathe out with a laugh. “Who was the last person who called me that? I’m not sure, was it my brother?” _“Dany. Dany tell them- make them….”_ Viserys had finally received his long awaited crown of gold that night. I bring my eyes up to meet his again and shake my head once. "Not the company you'd want to keep."

_"Alright, not Dany."_ His response is immediate and the matter settled. No resistance, no fight to what I had said. No questions as to why I didn't like the name. He continues.

_“How about My Queen? I’d bend the knee but…”_ The fire that had been churning in my core went cool and I couldn't help but ask incredulously. "What about those who swore allegiance to you?"

This was Jon Snow who sat before her, bare-chested and vulnerable in his current state. A man who never went back on his word. Who cared for his people as feverishly as she cared for her own. Would they not turn their backs on their King at his decision? His response was simple.

_“They’ll come to see you for what you are.”_ Again, that dangerous softness was in his eyes. A softness reserved just for her in private moments like these.

“I hope I deserve it.”  _I hope it was worth losing my child. I hope it's worth the risk of losing the favor of your people. I hope that I'm worth it to you._

_“You do.”_ Two simple words that sparked a dangerous fire within my twice burned heart. Would Jon Snow be the cause of a third fatal burn? I wouldn't know until it was too late but for now the risk was worth it. The promise of revenge for my children was worth the risk of scorning my own heart.


End file.
